


Playtime

by threewalls



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, Dominance, Dry Orgasm, Established Relationship, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Handcuffs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spreader Bars, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Baekhyun has a toy box, or really, a toy suitcase, shoved under his bed and always locked unless it's playtime."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playtime

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Go to Sleep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/548167) by [threewalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls). 



> Written for "orgasm denial/control", because apparently I have a Baekhyun muse who is all about that. I wrote this thinking of the Chanyeol and Baekhyun from "Go to Sleep", but this story can also stand alone.
> 
> With thanks to BP and notaverse.

"Chanyeol, you want to go get barbecue, right?" Sehun says from beside Chanyeol, and on the far end of the sofa, Jongin mutters, "Yeah, because he's not going to get fried chicken just because I do."

It's the first week in December. They have the night off and their manager is out for the evening, so what they eat tonight is completely up to them. Junmyeon wants some sort of majority group consensus before they go out tonight (and if it's for sushi, that would suit him fine), so Chanyeol's vote is a valuable commodity. Too valuable, unfortunately, for Chanyeol to get away with saying he honestly wants everyone to be happy about where they go for dinner more than he wants to eat anything in particular and have that be it. So he listens, and turns his grin to follow the conversation, and is glad he's not feeling hungry at all, the way the discussion is going round and round.

He doesn't get a break until Baekhyun is back from his shower, and starts drawing the fire up over Chanyeol's head.

Chanyeol knows it's Baekhyun because everyone else but he and Kyungsoo were already sitting in the lounge, and because Baekhyun isn't shy or quiet about leaping into a discussion he's missed the last fifteen minutes of and gives as good as he gets while the others try to sway him to their most desired dinner plans. He knows that it's Baekhyun, because while Chanyeol loves being touched, few people will walk straight up behind him and just curve the palm of their hand over the back of Chanyeol's neck, lacing their fingers through his hair. 

Chanyeol lasts about four seconds before he looks up, and just like clockwork, his heart goes thump.

Chanyeol likes banter, even when he's the butt of the joke, but he likes it best with Baekhyun. He likes it like this when he can just watch Baekhyun sass back at their maknaes' suggestions, too, and watch Baekhyun oh so innocently suggest what about getting Chinese, right after Kyungsoo mentions having not eaten Italian in a while. The discussion is lively enough that Chanyeol thinks it's probably ok that he's mostly only looking up.

From this angle, it's easy to watch Baekhyun's mouth, the sharp, shiny points of his teeth. Baekhyun is like the sort of puppy that's so cute you want it to bite you, or maybe that's just Chanyeol. Chanyeol likes banter when it makes the people around him happy, and it makes Baekhyun glow.

Baekhyun's fingers tighten in Chanyeol's hair and Chanyeol sits up straighter. He catches the glint in Baekhyun's eyes, because he's looking for it, wondering, and then he catches the tilt of Baekhyun's mouth and the tilt of Baekhyun's head, stretching out the pretty column of his neck, and Chanyeol's heart lurches into tap-dancing. It tells him: we know what that means.

He looks back up for Baekhyun's eyes, waiting. Baekhyun shoots a pointed glance over Kyungsoo's head, at the door frame into the kitchen, and Chanyeol bites his lip, because that direction gives Baekhyun a lot of head start.

But then Baekhyun's grip loosens, and he comes back into the conversation leaning forward over the back of the couch, jaw tilting.

He neatly side-steps Chanyeol's not in any way subtle attempt to swipe a hand in the direction of a neck that is exactly as much of a temptation as Baekhyun knows it to be. He pivots on one foot and then he's off into the kitchen, and Chanyeol is standing up.

Chanyeol is chasing him.

Baekhyun shrieks and Chanyeol laughs, because he knows this game, knows following Baekhyun's quick zigzags around the middle of the dorm, the lounge into the kitchen into the dining room and into the hall and through the lounge again. The dorm's not very big, but Baekhyun feints around furniture, pulling chairs out into Chanyeol's path, looking back over his shoulder with a smirk that tells Chanyeol he's doing exactly what Baekhyun wants.

They chase through "don't you care where we go?--" and "we're deciding without you--" and "we are leaving without you--" and something that might be a promise to bring them something back.

Chanyeol is almost dizzy when their front door locks shut, not immediately sure which room they've stopped in, because he's only looking at Baekhyun, who is sizing him up, like Chanyeol could be folded up small enough to fit in Baekhyun's pocket.

Chanyeol's heart goes thump thump thump, because he knows that look.

Baekhyun steps forward, and Chanyeol steps back, grabbing for Baekhyun's arms, for a steadiness that he doesn't need as his back hits a wall-- as Baekhyun reaches up, slim fingers curling up into Chanyeol's hair and pulling him down to meet Baekhyun. The first kisses are light, because they're both still breathing hard from running. Light on the corner of Chanyeol's lips, and his jaw and his ears, and deep against his open mouth. Chanyeol holds onto Baekhyun's shoulders and his heart slows down under the steady passes of Baekhyun's thumb across the patch of skin just above his hip.

"You don't want dinner?" Chanyeol asks, quieter now that they're alone, and that their foreheads are touching.

"No," Baekhyun says, and his fingers in Chanyeol's hair grip tight enough to hurt. "I want to play with you."

Baekhyun has a toy box, or really, a toy suitcase, shoved under his bed and always locked unless it's playtime. It has lube in several consistencies, and a feather boa, and dildos ranging from finger-width to HAHA, NO WAY because fan gifts mean none of them will ever have to enter a sex shop in their lives. It has crumpled golden streamers, ones that came home from Show Champion in Baekhyun's pocket, and there are spare towels, because Baekhyun doesn't like to sleep in the mess he makes of Chanyeol.

The towels are Chanyeol's job, taking them up from where they're folded thick and fluffy over everything else in the suitcase, and laying them out one by one in overlapping layers on Baekhyun's bed. He sits on his own bed, after, waiting and watching.

Baekhyun's jeans pull tight over his ass and his thighs as he crouches to dig through the suitcase. He's dropped lube and a handful of condoms on the towels, but it's the particular clink of metal on metal that makes Chanyeol sit up straight again. 

"Has it been a week?" Baekhyun asks.

That's not the real question, but Chanyeol nods his head, anyway, watching Baekhyun drop a pair of hand-cuffs that are lined with hot pink fur into the hinged lid of the suitcase, followed by a ball gag and a handful of clamps. 

A week without an orgasm doesn't mean seven days of being ignored, seven days without kisses, without being touched. It's been seven days for both of them, and that's meant cuddling up in Baekhyun's bed together early the last three nights because the only thing Baekhyun likes better than teasing Chanyeol is teasing himself. 

Condoms mean fucking, and it's a thicker lube, too, but Chanyeol also knows what in that suitcase makes a sound like the one he just heard and it's not _hand_ -cuffs.

"Ready to show me everything you've got?"

Baekhyun pulls a spreader bar from the suitcase, laying it out along the wall on top of his bed. For later, like the lube and the condoms. It has a matte black finish over the metal of the bar, black like the leather wrist cuffs that Baekhyun picks up, holding them up in one hand and snapping his fingers with the other, pointing to Chanyeol's clothes and then the bed.

Chanyeol flops naked flat on his back, elbows above his ears and his hands gripping the slats on Baekhyun's headboard. It's metal, too. It can take whatever Baekhyun has in mind for him.

His arms jerk in the cuffs when Baekhyun's nails graze a nipple. They're starting with kissing, and that means that Chanyeol can't see anything but Baekhyun's face. Chanyeol likes looking up into Baekhyun's smile and he _loves_ kissing.

The pull of the cuffs on Chanyeol's wrists tell him the only thing he has to do is kiss and be kissed, shiver and be caressed, feel. Kissing and more kissing, Baekhyun's mouth scraping short of bruising along his jawline as his palm spreads flat over Chanyeol's heart, Chanyeol licking the tip of Baekhyun's nose as Baekhyun's fingers cup the bone of his hip. 

His lips feel fizzy under Baekhyun's when Baekhyun's hand disappears from his skin. Chanyeol hears a plastic snap and pulls up his knees, the towel bunching up under his back.

Baekhyun's fingers anchored in Chanyeol's hair keep him from looking down his body when Baekhyun does. His hips snap and Chanyeol gasps, Baekhyun's slippery hand around his hard cock. 

Baekhyun's grip is the way Chanyeol likes it right from the start, steady rhythm, no teasing. It's so very hard for Chanyeol to think of unsexy things so that he can last more than the next thirty seconds with Baekhyun sitting there looking so self-satisfied as he watches Chanyeol pant. 

He tenses his stomach muscles, and that gets him a sticky thumb swiping over his slit and Baekhyun pinning him to the towels with his body, pressed T-shirt to bare chest. The rhythm of his hand doesn't falter. Baekhyun swallows Chanyeol's whimpers along with his tongue. 

"I want to make you come," he says. "As many times as I can."

Chanyeol thinks, yes yes good, clenching his butt muscles to try to push up into Baekhyun's fist. "That's next," Baekhyun murmurs, but Chanyeol doesn't understand. 

Chanyeol is past begging with words, past the point where he can stop for Baekhyun. Seven days ends now, ends suddenly, sticky and hot in Baekhyun's hand, Chanyeol's heart and lungs still racing headlong.

Baekhyun sits up, wipes his wet hand on Chanyeol, come and lube in streaks down his chest. There's come on his T-shirt, along his side. He pulls it up over his head. 

"Don't move," he says, and Chanyeol jingles his wrists, wriggles his loose feet. He's still catching his breath. "Good guess."

Baekhyun's face was pretty close before, while he was half lying on Chanyeol. Chanyeol wonders what sort of face he made when he came.

The cuffs on the spreader bar are black, too, dull metal D-rings and buckles in black leather. They're adjustable, set wide on the bar, but it only takes a few minutes for Baekhyun to buckle them around Chanyeol's thighs and calves, bending his knees over the bar. They're already set at the right distances. The leather's become so soft against his skin.

Baekhyun sits back between Chanyeol's knees, his hand stroking high along Chanyeol's thigh-- "Comfy?"

"Yeah."

Baekhyun pinches, the clink of metal on metal as the muscles of Chanyeol's legs leap against their bonds. He smirks, and then he drops down, his dark head through the frame of Chanyeol's legs to, oh, soothe the pinch with his mouth. 

He licks and kisses, sucking bites and soothing them along Chanyeol's sensitive inner thigh, his hand stroking Chanyeol's shin. 

Chanyeol expects Baekhyun to switch legs, to draw this out when his tongue reaches the crease of Chanyeol's ass. Not to lick _up_ , lithe tongue lapping at Chanyeol's balls. Baekhyun opens his lips to take one in, into his fucking, sucking mouth, and Chanyeol's feet kick, because hot and wet and even if his dick's soft right now, too soon, coming once hasn't taken the edge off. 

Chanyeol can't see Baekhyun's face because his face is full of balls, his nose nudging the base of Chanyeol's dick-- and then Baekhyun stops. 

"What? No! Come on!"

Baekhyun has one of his fingers to his lips. In the sudden silence that comes with holding his breath, Chanyeol can hear Jongin and Sehun calling for who gets to set the table. 

"Take-out must have won," Baekhyun mutters. He's pouting. 

They both look at the door. 

Secrets don't stay secrets when you live in such close quarters. The others know it's not the usual fan service when Chanyeol holds an umbrella for Baekhyun or when Baekhyun lets Chanyeol get at his neck. But they're not much more showy in the dorms. Chanyeol prefers love to be a private show. 

"You're biting your lip," Baekhyun says.

"I can keep quiet." 

Baekhyun leans forward over the bar, stretching a hand to cup Chanyeol's cheek, his thumb stroking at the corner of Chanyeol's mouth. "I'm not going to leave you enough concentration." 

He gets up off the bed and checks the lock on their bedroom door first. Some of the tension unspools between Chanyeol's shoulder blades. 

Chanyeol opens his mouth wide as soon as Baekhyun picks up the gag, the one with the pink silicon ball in the middle. (The straps are black leather; Baekhyun likes his accessories to coordinate.) Soft enough to gently press past Chanyeol's teeth, big enough to comfortably fill his whole mouth. 

"I was going to use that after I got you off again," Baekhyun says, hands hidden behind Chanyeol's legs, searching around for something that makes that distinctive snap. "How fast do you think I can make that happen?"

Chanyeol doesn't answer. He swallows around the heaviness on his tongue and lets all the words settle inside him. He watches Baekhyun make his hands glisten. 

Chanyeol likes Baekhyun's hands. He likes Baekhyun's fingers, in his butt and on his cock. That's what he gets, Chanyeol's cock quickly filling out to coordinated strokes. He likes Baekhyun's tongue peeking out between his parted lips and the flush on his neck. Baekhyun doesn't need much time to find Chanyeol's prostate; Chanyeol doesn't need much time between one finger and three. 

Chanyeol groans behind the gag, as much of a warning as he can. Baekhyun's eyes sparkle as he strokes Chanyeol through pulses that add another layer over the drying streaks on his stomach.

Baekhyun wipes his hand on the towels. His bicep bunches as he grips the bar between Chanyeol's legs, rolling him in half.

"So much energy," he says, buried fingers still rubbing against Chanyeol's prostate. "I want to wear you out."

Chanyeol squirms, legs twitching against the bar, against the bonds. He can't shut his knees, can't pull away, no respite from the sensation Baekhyun's fingertips force onto him. He whines, small noises made smaller by the gag. The D-rings chime and Baekhyun grins down at him, holding Chanyeol's body bent. 

"I want everything you've got," Baekhyun says. "Every drop."

Chanyeol's eyes water, trickles down his hot cheeks like the drip of semen in tiny, tiny spurts from the tip of his painfully flushed cock. Baekhyun's fingers are relentless, his grip on the bar is solid and the delight on his face has a squeezing hold on Chanyeol's heart. 

Chanyeol's hips jerk every time Baekhyun rolls the bar into the bend of his arm, reaching down to thumb across the head of Chanyeol's cock. 

"Anything left?" he asks, stroking the trails of come down the shaft.

Baekhyun's tongue is delicate. The suction of his mouth is light, lips sealed just under the head of Chanyeol's cock. Chanyeol's wrists pull at the cuffs and his head drops to the pillow: his neck is something he can still move. He can't speak and he can't move and Baekhyun is cupping Chanyeol's balls as his tongue flickers. 

Baekhyun sucks Chanyeol through his limbs seizing, swallowing nothing as Chanyeol's voice breaks at the back of his throat, coming dry. He sucks Chanyeol completely soft before letting his dick slip from between his lips. 

"That's what I've been waiting for," he says, and Chanyeol's heart goes thump. 

Chanyeol's hole feels empty when Baekhyun pulls his fingers away, but that's ok, because it means that Baekhyun is stripping his jeans. It means skin on skin. It means Baekhyun is finally, finally fucking him, using the bar as a handle to angle Chanyeol's hips. The D-rings on the bar chime with every thrust; Chanyeol doesn't have the energy to quiver.

Baekhyun's eyes do not close, not even when his grin is more gritted teeth than smirk. He doesn't looks away from Chanyeol's body laid out in front of him, completely spent. Arousal is what tightens Baekhyun's mouth. What tightens Chanyeol's lungs at the tender friction of Baekhyun's cock inside him is similar but not the same. 

Chanyeol breathes in short, shallow gasps, watching Baekhyun through wet lashes. Yes, he blinks, as Baekhyun's rhythm falters. Yes, yes, please, at Baekhyun's increasingly short, sharp thrusts and when Baekhyun comes on just another stroke, the heat spreads through Chanyeol like satisfaction.

It's the gag that Baekhyun loosens first, easing the ball carefully from Chanyeol's mouth and massaging at his cheeks with his thumbs. He kisses the corners of Chanyeol's eyes. He kisses the inner sides of Chanyeol's unbound wrists, settling each on the bed, and unbuckles the spreader bar cuffs before unbending Chanyeol's legs. 

Chanyeol shivers under the passes of the washcloth down his body, one arm curled loosely around Baekhyun's waist. 

The toys go into a body-length pillowcase for Baekhyun to clean and oil. The towels go in the pile of clothes that need washing. Chanyeol goes under the covers, Baekhyun pulling the edge up to his neck.

"I'm going to get whatever's left from dinner," Baekhyun says, pulling on some shorts and a T-shirt. "Want some?"

Chanyeol watches him speak, Baekhyun's mouth moving as he forms the sounds. Chanyeol likes Baekhyun's mouth. Chanyeol likes his voice, and his hand in Chanyeol's hair, stroking back sweat-weighted strands of Chanyeol's fringe from his forehead.

Baekhyun comes back with a plate of fried chicken, and eats sitting on his bed with his back up against the wall, the plate on one knee and Chanyeol's face resting on the opposite thigh. 

The second time he comes back, Baekhyun gets the lights. Under the covers, he hums, stretching into the warmth that Chanyeol has made as he wraps Chanyeol's body around him. His waist fits perfectly under Chanyeol's arm.

"I don't get to use that bar that often," Baekyun says. "But you know what my favorite toy really is, right?" His hand slides from Chanyeol's shoulder up to anchor in his hair. His mouth tastes of toothpaste. 

Chanyeol's heart goes thump thump thump. He knows.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also comment at my [LJ](http://threewalls.livejournal.com/368064.html) or my [DW](http://threewalls.dreamwidth.org/241216.html). Comments are always welcome and appreciated.


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